


Age of the Omega

by WhovianThunder



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alpha/Omega, Extremely Dubious Consent, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-22
Updated: 2018-06-05
Packaged: 2019-05-09 09:20:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14713383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhovianThunder/pseuds/WhovianThunder
Summary: Deep in the underbelly of the Louisiana bayou, where omegists everywhere are fighting the oppressive forces of the powerful and privileged Alphas, Jack Crawford, head of the FBI, enlists the help of troubled Omega profiler Will Graham to aid in the hunt for the Alpha Scourge, a murderer targeting prominent Alphas who delight in the subjugation of their Omega counterparts. But when Jack seeks out a psychiatrist known as Hannibal Lecter to help keep Will from losing himself to the empathy disorder responsible for his ability to catch criminals, he becomes increasingly concerned with the growing relationship between Will and Hannibal and begins to suspect that there is much more to Doctor Lecter than meets the eye.





	1. Will

"Predator and prey move in silent gestures, on the seductive dance of death, in the shadows cast by the vultures in the night."

-Luis Marques

 

Chapter 1

The light of the moon wasn't a fitting crimson the night special agent Jack Crawford stumbled upon another murder. It didn't send signals to the mind speaking of death, destruction, or despair. Rather, it was a sparkling emerald green, each beam casting a glow on one of the darkest stains on the town's already bloody history. Serving as a mockery to the head of the FBI, the defiant orb suspended itself proudly among the righteous as the odd one out, a profane proselytizer of the macabre intent on showcasing the beauty of a mutilated corpse. It wanted you to see Venus in Hephasteus, glory in acts of cruelty, the language of Aramaic in the Grand Grimoire. With the promise of paradise in the bowels of Hades, how could one possibly refuse such an ardent advance proclaiming an undying love for the sweet satisfaction of sinful discourse?

Stan Field's body did nothing to block the effect, of course. The moon is ruled by the Omega, and an artful display of post-mortem staging was going to move in unison with the satellite when perpetrated by one. Shaped like a butterfly, Stan served as a warning to Alphas everywhere that his killer was serious about the ongoing feud between the Alphas and the Omegas . . . and the Omegas were aiming to win.

This was the fifth murder by the Alpha Scourge in the span of a week, and Jack knew all hell was going to break loose when the press got wind of yet another huge blow to the ego of the Alpha ideal. But what made this kill so special was the identity of the man brutalized by the Scourge, for Stan was a well-known authority figure with a repulsive view regarding an Omega's "place." He was a lawyer before he became a judge, and he was a damn good one, too. So good, in fact, that he successfully managed to peddle the insanity defense for an Alpha client accused of murdering her Omega husband on the grounds that her mate's decision to file for a divorce and seek sole custody of their son Hiram drove an already downtrodden wife and mother to the brink of madness. Forget the fact that she was an abusive alcoholic anti-omegist who routinely abused her spouse and had numerous affairs with Omega house husbands. She was loved by the community and the charities she contributed to on a weekly basis. She was a child-abuse survivor living among the shadows of her mother's evil deeds. Add to that the image of a parent battling a cancer diagnosis and you've got a recipe for innocence that no one could possibly dislike the taste of. Not even the shaky hands and salty tears of your husband as he describes his beatings in graphic detail are enough to discredit you when you've got the verbose lips of a prominent man in the world of law backing you up.

The worst part of it all? The not guilty verdict was delivered by an all-Omega jury.

The aftermath of that trial blew the entire underbelly of the Louisiana bayou out of its croc-infested waters and into the cold harshness of an all too encompassing reality. The sober truth of what the rest of the world-and even some Omegas themselves-thought about the "inferior species" of human below the celebrated Alpha began to take root in the minds of Omegas everywhere, leaving a slew of unhappy Alphas to watch in despair as their marriage partners went on strike and marched down the streets of their respective cities, demanding to know why their own kind would betray them for the oppressive forces they were, until then, powerless to stop. The Alpha Scourge began making a name for himself not too long after that, setting an already on edge group of threatened Alphas on a path to retain their privileged place in society by any means necessary. What followed was a sequence of events that came to be known as the "Age of the Omega."

Jack's brow furrowed as he immersed himself in deep thoughts, wondering just how in the hell he was supposed to apprehend this psycho when he couldn't even begin to understand his mindset. Despite what people may believe, it wasn't as simple as catching someone who obviously wanted Alphas to pay for their crimes against the Omegas. You needed to be able to think like the killer, to get inside his head and merge with his motivations. Now for all his misgivings as an investigator, Jack was pretty good at leading people and encouraging them to become their best selves. He could even take apart the evidence at a crime scene and draw his own conclusions about their creators in a way very few could.

But he couldn't become them. He couldn't feel their fears, sense their weaknesses, or embrace their wickedness.

He knew of only one with that ability.

"You're thinking of bringing him in, aren't you?"

Jack sighed. Beverly Katz stood beside him as he stared at the dead man suspended in a V formation above a plain Mahogany bedpost, bloody glove in one hand and a half-eaten cheeseburger in the other.

"Could you possibly eat that somewhere I'm not gonna find it?"

Katz smiled. "You know you can't deflect the question by focusing on my cast iron stomach's ability to consume large quantities of food in the presence of scarlet gore."

"Yeah, well, I could try," Jack grumbled, his own gut rumbling in disgust at the sight of blood. "Have we found anything we can use?"

"Not much. The most forensics has managed to scrounge up were a few pieces of stray hair we're pretty sure belonged to the victim's cat. There are no fingerprints, no DNA . . . Jack, he even used what I'm guessing is a suppressant to mask his scent."

"You think he's in heat?"

"Very doubtful. Omegas need the company of their Alphas to help them through it. Their side effects progress to the point of exhaustion. Knotting is the only relief. He'd have been on his knees screaming in agony in no time. You should know this, Jack. You're married to an Omega."

Jack side-eyed his subordinate. "A woman, Katz. I don't know anything about male Omegas. Things would be so much easier if the Scourge were female."

"Don't be ridiculous. There isn't a known drug on earth that can suppress that smell."

Ignoring the frustration she could feel radiating off her boss in waves, Beverly put her burger in her mouth and stilled mid-bite, noting the determination suddenly present on Jack's face. "You know, Fields once compared Omegas to butterflies because he saw them as fragile, needing to be crushed. This isn't going to be the last time he kills, Jack."

"I know," he replied warily. "Which is why I'm going to have to seek an outside influence . . . whether he likes it or not."

"I knew the subject of that Omega would come up eventually," Beverly said, smiling slyly as she glanced back at the dead body. "Huh. Even in the greenish glow, the blood is still black in the moonlight."

Jack stole one last look at the slain judge before turning on his heels and heading home to his wife, knowing that tomorrow he would have to confront the only man who could help him bring an end to all this madness and save an entire town from self-destruction.

He'd have to confront Will Graham.

* * *

 

"What do you see when you look at Lolita Reyes?"

The room was spinning out of focus, faces blurring into one another as though morphed by the stroke of a painter's brush.

"What do you make of the evidence?"

A noise in the background. Soft, yet brazen, like bristles that bend but don't break.

"What . . . is your design?"

The end. Was it the end? He couldn't tell. Suddenly, everything wasn't as it should be. The swarm of people rushed to the exits, the one bold enough to almost confront him thinking better of it when she saw the closed off look on his handsome face. Colors, crowds, sounds . . . they were all the same, a plethora of sensory input specifically calibrated to drive him mad. Was reality even a comprehension audible to someone with his overactive brain? Did he want to find out?

A brief tick of nails against the railing and he sniffed the air, hackles raised, senses on high alert. There was still someone in here, an intruder infringing upon his sacred space. The Omega within him braced for danger, ready to engage in flight at the slightest hint of predatory influence. But the response time for self-protection began to diminish with the ticking of the clock on the wall as the presence became familiar, like an old acquaintance you still felt in the back folds of your subconscious. He was here, but not as a threat. He was Alpha, but not an unwelcome one. He wasn't new. He was old. He was known. He was-

"You going to spend the rest of the day looking around the room or are you going to say hi to an old friend?"

_Of course._

Will Graham forced his tense body to turn hesitantly toward the intrusive Alpha, imagination disappearing beneath the weight of Crawford's presence. He hadn't seen his boss in over three years. Not since the breakdown. Not since Hobbs. Not since Abigail. 

_Abigail._

"Jack," Will gasped, face no doubt looking far more vulnerable than he'd like it to. "What are you doing here?"

Jack didn't answer, leaving Will to reach into a non-corporeal list of possible scenarios for his visit. It couldn't have been a social call. Neither man was particularly good at that. Alana's death would be something Will would feel so that wasn't happening either. As far as he knew, the world wasn't about to end. What's left?

_Oh no._

"You're looking good, Will. I'm surprised you managed to keep yourself together enough to obtain a teaching position."

"No thanks to you," Will replied, half-jokingly, reaching behind his back to grasp his desk with clenched fingers. "What brings you here, Jack? Lord knows it's not the pleasure of my company you're after."

 Jack smiled. "Why do you ask questions you already know the answers to?"

"Habit." 

It was a masquerade. Of that, Will was certain. Two men attempting small talk in an effort to steer the conversation away from having to be the first one to state the obvious. Will knew why Jack was there, yet the FBI agent clearly didn't feel comfortable enough to work up the courage and ask what he knew he had no business asking. He knew Will wasn't mentally prepared for the Alpha Scourge. Will knew it, too. But he wasn't about to bend his will to Jack for the sake of his comfort. If he was going to ask this of Will, he deserved the sour taste that came with it. 

"Alright," Jack said, obviously sensing the Omega's rigidness. "I don't see any point in beating around the bush here when so much has happened so I'll just get straight to the point. There's a killer on the loose. I need you to help me catch him."

Will scoffed. "I knew it."

"Look, I didn't plan this," Jack admonished, following the other man when he suddenly stepped out of the classroom and into the hall. "I tried not to have to ask you to do this. I really did. But people are dying, Will! I've got a slew of dead bodies on my hands and I still have no goddamn clue who this Omega is, where he's gonna strike next, or how his mind works!"

"You know how his mind works, Jack. He's offended by the Alphas and their privileged social status in society. He sees them as unworthy of their lives and unworthy of the praise they're getting. He's going to strike out against prominent Alphas that have publicly humiliated Omegas in some way and he's going to do it at night when the Omega moon can shine a judgmental light on his sinful prey." 

"So, that's why he does it all at night. That's what the moon represents. The eye of the wrathful Omega God."

Will stopped in his tracks, chuckling humorlessly at the awkward situation in which he found himself. Here he was, putting up a big fight about refusing to kowtow to Jack's whims, only to turn around and do the exact thing he was trying to avoid. He felt like such an ass. 

"What else?"

"Fuck you, Jack," Will said quietly, no vehemence behind the assertive statement. 

Jack backed off as the Alpha sensed the Omega's surrender. They always sensed the surrender. "Look, I know you don't like this gift you have. I know what it does to you. But we're saving lives, Graham. Hell, I'd never have caught Hobbs if it wasn't for your insight. You have this way of thinking that nobody could ever replicate. You have imagination. You have-"

"I don't need you listing my qualities, Jack. I know all too well what this thing does to me. I'm the one that has to live with it every day. I'm the one with the broken brain."

"You don't have a broken brain, Will," Jack said. "You just have different wiring. That's all." 

Will closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. He couldn't do this. He couldn't run the risk of what happened last time happening again. But he also couldn't say no to the opportunity to save a life, even if some secret part of himself felt the people being slaughtered had it coming. For the first time, it appeared he was at a major crossroads he never intended to visit. How can one stay so close to the path and still get so lost? 

"Alright. I'll do it. But you have to promise me you'll make me back off if it gets to be too much for me. I can't lose myself to this again, Jack. I have a sinking suspicion I won't come back this time." 

"Don't worry," Jack assured him, his tone bold and impervious. "I won't let you disappear again. I can't do this without you, Will."  

 Will smiled nervously, unsure if he was doing the right thing. "Then you won't have to."

As he turned to leave, he heard a question being asked to his back.

Will . . . this war raging on. This Alpha and Omega thing. I know Alphas aren't perfect, but why discredit all of us for the actions of the sinful?" 

Without glancing over his shoulder, he asked, "When you saw the latest murder, did you ever think of the possibility the Omega responsible for Field's death was in heat?"

Silence. Then, "Yes."

Will's brows furrowed in an imperceptible display of offense at such an assumption, but the expression was gone before it fully took shape. He began walking away, praying he wasn't making the biggest mistake of his life as he said, "I think you have your answer."

* * *

 

 In the middle of the night, far from the prying eyes of his beautiful, sleeping bride, Jack began thinking of Bella the day he first met her in Italy. He pictured it all as if his entire life was flashing before his very eyes: the sun at high noon, the chanting of the men in uniform as they worshipped her beauty, the sparkling diamond he envisioned her wearing on her thin, polished finger. He'd wanted her since the first moment he laid eyes on her. She was like a goddess sent from somewhere magical, tasked with the mission of being his radiant bride.  She was his first and only love, and he made it his prerogative to shower her with the best he had to offer, regardless of how it might break him in the process. He has never wavered from the promise he made to himself, even as she became sick and needed him more than she ever had before. He was there for her then and he would be here for her now, always and forever. He wanted to hold her, to touch her, to soothe her fears and make the pain go away. He wanted to trade his life for hers and never look back, to feel the sting of cancer's touch as it set alight every nerve ending in his grieving body until there was nothing left for him to do but die for her, for this beautiful, perfect woman who didn't deserve the hand this cruel world forced in her aching palms.

Instead, he was left here to suffer while she wheezed in the other room, listening to the hysterical soprano of Alana Bloom as she berated him on the phone for daring to go to the only person that could help him solve this damn case. 

"No, Jack, no!" Alana scolded. "I told you not to let him go back there!" 

_Christ._

"I'm out of options, Alana. He is my only hope."

"Oh, fuck your hope, Jack. Do you want a repeat of past events? Do you want him to go so far inside someone else's head, he'll never get out again?"

Jack squeezed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. "Of course not, Alana. That's why I'm calling you. I'm trying to find a way to do this without Will losing himself to this job. Now are you going to give me practical solutions or are you just gonna sit there and argue with me all fucking night?" 

"Did you know he has nightmares, Jack? Did you know that there isn't a night that goes by where he isn't waking up drenched in sweat and scared for his life?"

"It's just his imagination."

"It's the price of his imagination!" Alana said sternly. "Hasn't he suffered enough at your hands, Jack? What do you want him to do? Die out there?"

Jack slammed his hand across the counter of his kitchen. "Goddamn it, I am sick and tired of having to apologize for my decisions involving Will Graham. Yes, I fucked up. Yes, I was responsible for riding him so hard on Hobbs that he practically lost his damn mind and ended up in the mental ward of an insane asylum. I've learned my lesson, Alana. What more do you want from me?"

"I want you to leave him alone!"

"I can't do that!"

Alana was silent on the other end. Heavy breathing permeated both ends of the line until fatigue set in and a quiet calm surrounded her next words. "I just don't want to see him get hurt. Not again."

Jack's heart beat in synchrony with Alana's concerns and the soft sniffle she couldn't hide from him. "I don't either, Bloom. But I also don't want this psycho on the loose to continue murdering people. Now you know as well as I do that Will's the only hope I've got. Please, please, please, tell me what I can do. Whatever it is, I'll do it. I'm just-I really think it has to be this way. At least for now." 

A tortured silence brought Jack's nails to his teeth in esurient anticipation. Then, much to his delight, she let out a sigh of surrender, the same sigh he heard from Will's throat the day he regained a profiler, and he knew he had her. "Alright. I know someone who can help."

"Who?" Jack asked, not wanting to break the spell. 

"He's a former colleague of mine. He sees all kinds of patients. If there's anyone I'd entrust Will to, it would be him. Perhaps he'll agree to a psychological profile." 

"Thanks, Alana. You have no idea how much I appreciate this."

Another sigh. "Yeah. Just do me a favor and make sure you don't do anything without his say so." 

"I promise," Jack said, nodding even though she couldn't see him. "Tell me his name."

Alana was still for quite some time. When he thought she'd never speak again, she caved and gave him exactly what he wanted, a name Jack knew from that point on he'd associate with Will Graham's salvation. He was the light at the end of the tunnel, the bandage across Will's wounds, the cure to the only thing keeping Will from his true potential. 

And his name was Hannibal Lecter.  

 


	2. The Heat

"Can you? P-p-please?"

From the opposite end of the room, seated with one leg over the other, Doctor Hannibal Lecter placed a tissue in his patient's outstretched hand while maintaining a respectable distance. When the man left it used and crumpled on the table next to his chair, the immaculate psychiatrist kept his annoyance hidden beneath a veil of feigned politesse, eyes drifting to the offending object with inner disdain. Why must humans be so inconsiderate of basic hygienic preferences? 

"Franklin, you have to convince yourself the lion's not in the room."

 "I know. I know. I just hate being this neurotic."

Another day. Another dollar. Another sniffle. He was as predictable as the rest of the herd. Pity. "If you weren't neurotic, Franklin, I assure you, you'd be something much worse."  

The other man smiled through his tears. Biting his quivering lip, he was about to say something when there was a knock on the door. Startled, he drew back and looked at his watch. "Well," he said trailing off. "I guess this is the end of our s-session."  

Hannibal's brow furrowed slightly. Discourtesy, though something he was used to, wasn't usually practiced in or around the office, a place he considered a domain completely devoid of it. The audacity of someone interrupting a session with a patient was intolerable to someone with Hannibal's tastes, but he soldiered through it for the sake of appearances, always one step ahead of his emotions. Excusing himself to his patient, he got up and made his way to the door, opening it with just the slightest hint of disapproval. "Can I help you?"

The man in front of him was a black male with a serious face that matched his serious disposition, a quiet sense of dominance complimenting the strong pheromones of his Alpha scent. "Yes, I'm sorry to interrupt. My name is Jack Crawford. Are you Dr. Lecter?"

"I am."

"Very nice to meet you," he said, holding out a hand in greeting. "I'm here to talk about an important matter I feel would be best addressed as quickly as possible. I hope you'll forgive the intrusion. May I come in?"

His credentials were quickly flashed in front of Hannibal's face before disappearing into the thick pockets of his jacket. He certainly wasted no time, did he? "You may wait in the waiting room."

Mr. Crawford's eyes widened. "Seriously?"

"I'm afraid I must insist upon it. My patient still has ten minutes left in his therapy session and to rob him of those precious moments would be extremely rude on my part. But I'd be happy to accommodate you once we've finished here if you'd like."  

An Alpha showdown was taking place between the two as palpable as the quiet calm before a raging storm. Hannibal could sense it. He maintained his ground and waited for the other to back off, smiling inwardly when the FBI agent took a step back and resigned himself to a seat in the hall. "As you wish."  

Just before Hannibal successfully closed the door in triumph, Franklin stood up and came to stand in the doorway. "Dr. Lecter, I don't really think it's necessary to make him wait. Honestly, I-I'm much better now. Go and see what this gentleman here wants. I insist."

If someone with a sick sense of humor could feel what the good doctor was feeling at that moment, in addition to looking at the opposing expression on his face, they'd have burst into infectious bouts of hysterical laughter. Hannibal, resisting the part of him that wanted to bash Franklin's head into the wall, conceded with a surprising amount of effort. "If you feel that would be best, Franklin, then by all means." 

When the infuriating Franklin disappeared around the corner, Hannibal pretended not to notice the subtle smirk present on Jack's face. "Well, then. Please, come in."

Entering his office, Jack immediately turned to face Hannibal, giving him a brief once-over before revealing the reason for his uncivilized visit. "I really am sorry for barging in like this, doctor, but I'm afraid this couldn't wait. I have an urgent matter I'd like to discuss with you if that's alright."

"Am I in trouble?"

"Huh? Oh no, no. I was actually trying to find out if you'd be willing to do a psychological profile." 

"Yours?"

Jack ignored what Lecter considered an amusing dig at his expense. "No, uh, a friend of mine. He assists the homicide division in solving our cases. Very troubled young man. Has some sort of empathy disorder he can't seem to shake. Makes him, well, makes him kind of crazy. Plays with his brain a little bit." 

Hannibal paused, suddenly intrigued. An empathy disorder driving someone to the brink of madness? Now _that_ was something worth living for. "I see. What exactly made you think of choosing me for such a task?"

"You came highly recommended by Alana Bloom."

"Ah. Well, I can certainly see why you came then. Dr. Bloom is very important to me. I assume your trust in her word is as strong as mine?"

"If it wasn't, I wouldn't be here," Jack said. "How long have you known each other?"

"Long enough. We met at John Hopkins University. She's a former student of mine and is now one of my closest friends. How does she know this friend of yours?"

"Colleagues. They both lecture at Quantico."

"I see."

Hannibal's curiosity was piqued by this man Jack spoke of. The thought of someone with the capacity to understand him left the doctor with a strangely selfish yearning to see if this unique understanding could be directed at Hannibal himself. How could he possibly refuse? "Your friend certainly sounds like someone I'd like to get to know. I graciously accept your request, Agent Crawford." 

For the first time since his introduction, Jack appeared to be genuinely pleased. It was disappointing. "Perfect. There have been five more murders by a man known as the Alpha Scourge. Will is there now. Would you like to accompany me?"

 Hannibal waited a reasonable amount of time before responding, grabbing his coat off the back of his chair with a barely perceptible nod. "Of course. Lead the way, detective."

Jack sprinted past Hannibal, a newfound bounce suddenly present in his step. "Thank you so much, Dr. Lecter. I swear you won't be disappointed. If there's one thing I can promise you, it's that Will Graham is a very interesting man."

_Interesting indeed._

* * *

 

Will hated crime scenes. 

Even now, staring straight through the arms and legs arranged into letters on the forest path, he could feel curious eyes boring holes into the back of his head as a huge crowd of Alpha police detectives gathered to get a sneak preview of the freak Jack hired to do their jobs. Five, ten, fifteen condescending aromas infiltrated the air like tattoo ink seeping into miles of taut flesh, no doubt incredibly peeved at the audacity of Crawford to plant an undeserving Omega in a role strictly reserved for greatness. He could feel their anger and their curiosity simultaneously but he managed to put it on the back burner and not let it interfere with his objective. Why should they win anyway? He was better than every single one of them and he certainly wasn't about to bend over for them like so many Omegas before him, no matter how badly they wanted him to. He had more respect for himself than that. 

Ready for action, Will tuned out everyone and closed his eyes, allowing the nameless faces to fade from view. Little by little, an imaginary yellow line spliced through the image of the crime scene in his head like a metronome of erasure, evaporating everything in its path until the scenery behind his eyelids traveled to a past point in time, somewhere between the aftermath of the murder and the meticulous disposition of body parts. The killer was basking in the twinkling stars above him, his entire being submerging into Will until they became one entity, hopelessly united into a single cohesive whole. Will gazed at the bloodless limbs as if they offended him, a mixture of shame and disgust coursing inside his veins at his life's work.  

_I gather the objects I've drained of blood to the dirt road and notice the Alpha footprints embedded into the trackway. Appalled by both the sight and the twisted satisfaction I get from defiling it, I begin to lay down the pieces of each kill in a particular order, with a specific victim dispersed to a letter matching the first letters of their corresponding names._

Shaking hands set the tone in slow motion, torn between the impulsive need to finish quickly and the desire to make the moment last. One by one, the puzzle pieces came together like bodies conjoined in lust, fitting neatly into the dark narrative that would later serve as the Omega's masterpiece. 

_The moon is shining down on my jigsaw in approval and praise as I glance up at it, its guiding light leading me to completion with the loving gaze of a proud parent. A calmness overtakes me and I sigh, soothed by the warmth of its eternal glow. Looking back at the finished product, I mourn the loss of my scent, wishing I could rub it into the patchwork of earth surrounding the word spelled out with careful precision: O M E G A. The word isn't bloody. It isn't dirty. It's clean cut and natural, made with products manufactured by nature itself and distributed in such a way as to taunt the Alphas who treat it as if its something to be ashamed of. It lies right within their feculent domain, its cleanliness a sharp contrast to the messy dirt of the Alpha path. It's not us that's unkempt, it's them. They're the filthy ones spreading their disease across the land and the Omega name is now directly in their way, much to my delight. Never again will it be ignored._

_This is my design._

"Will?"

Will opened his eyes at the interruption, gasping in a sudden burst of pain as he fought to return to himself. 

_Something was wrong._

Nausea bubbled up inside his throat, and for a second, he thought he was going to puke. Around him, the noise of the other officers blurred into a barrage of endless chatter that annoyed him to no end. He looked around as if through the eyes of the devil himself, irritation morphing in and out of focus. Another wave flowed through him, forcing him to clutch his stomach in self-defense. 

"Will?"

His name. He could hear his name amidst the cacophony of jumbled words spoken from every corner of the forest, yet he found himself unable to zero in on it long enough to pinpoint the owner of the voice.  It carried resonance, but it was no match for the pain that accompanied his nausea, a dull ache that began low in his belly and traveled into his nether regions like a bad case of UTI.

Something about this was not right. Not right at all.

"Goddamn it, Will. Answer me!" 

That voice again. Louder, though. Sterner. The familiarity of it was starting to make sense. The tone was rough. Rough, yet gentle. Not the sort of gentleness you'd expect to find wrapped up in a grandmother's quilt or a mother's bosom. No, this was the gentleness associated with something hard, a stoic exterior housing a soft touch that must never be discovered. Slowly but surely, the blurry lines of color coating Will's vision became clearer, revealing the occupants of the outdoors that conversed as if his entire life wasn't falling apart right before their eyes. He ignored them, finding the strength to turn around before falling on his trembling knees. 

_It's a heat_ , he could hear them whisper. 

No. This wasn't supposed to be happening. An Alpha must have triggered it. But who? How? Why?

"Will? You alright?"

As if on cue, Will lifted his head up and locked eyes with someone to Jack's left, a flow of slick drenching both ends of his boxer shorts at the sight of him. Will growled at the Alpha as a warning, lip curling into a primal snarl. He dared him to come closer with expanding pupils half-hidden beneath dark curls falling over his wet lashes, and for a moment, it almost looked as if his competition was going to do it. The other man's face darkened with an all-encompassing need he couldn't quite hide as well as he wanted to, leaving Will to growl again in a display of Omega defiance surprising to every Alpha in his general vicinity. The strong smell from his heat hit everyone's nostrils, but he was too angry at the man responsible for it to be embarrassed. He just wanted this Alpha to know that his ability to make Will's body betray him so severely wasn't going to make him cave. If anything, he was going to fight harder. 

The other man's mouth curved upwards into a small smile, meeting Will's rebelliousness with an attitude that seemed to purr its approval in a message only Will could decipher.

_Good boy._  

 "Christ," the voice Will finally recognized as Jack's choked, covering his nose with his sleeve. "No way should an Omega smell this good during a heat."

Will let out a howl of pain. His fingers sliced the ground, breaking eye contact with the unknown Alpha beside his boss. Gathering up all the strength he could muster, he tore from the crime scene like a bat out of hell and ran as far as his legs could carry him, tearing up from the unbelievable agony he knew would subside slightly when away from the one that caused it. Houses blurred in his peripheral vision and the droplets now flowed freely down cheeks that burned hotter than the Louisiana sun. The cramps in his thighs intensified and his groin contracted sharply from the heat mixed with the strenuous exercise, leaving Will to wonder how he could even move during such indescribable anguish. On and on he went, enduring everything his body had to offer until he somehow reached his house, two miles from all those infuriating Alphas, and collapsed in a pile of bones on the front lawn, laughing incredulously at how easily a heat could unglue an Omega. 

Who the hell was that man? What was he doing with Jack? Why did he have the power to bring about Will's heat earlier than expected? He just didn't get it.

Will wanted to scream, to tear his hair out, to pound the grass until his wrists cracked and his knuckles bled. But the only thing he could do was lie there as the clouds became a deep shade of gray and the thunder rumbled from all directions. The sign of an approaching storm echoed the one he could feel about to take shape in his own life, for he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt he was going to see that Alpha again. 

And that scared the shit out of him.  

* * *

 A rapid ticking of computer keys filled the otherwise quiet room with sound as a woman sat naked in front of a glowing screen, finishing up the front page of an article she was about to post to her website. A subdued but determined appearance played itself on her strong features while her fiery strands fell in thick rivulets down her neck and shoulders, the stubbornness of it as persistent as the unquenchable hankering for the thrill of the story responsible for her heartbeat. She could feel the hunt for the next big wave nipping at her heels and she heeded its call with relish, the Alpha within her sighing in gratification at the thought of it. 

One word later and the send button was pressed without hesitation. The image of a heat-infested Will Graham made the cut as the sole breadwinner for the first week since his disappearance from the world of crime three years ago. His reemergence sparked a heated debate among the community as to whether he was a suitable choice for a case such as the one courtesy of the Alpha Scourge, and the driven reporter was more than happy to bring an end to that discussion. A small smile played across her pretty face at an entry that would finally bring Will Graham to her welcoming doorstep. The resulting stir caused by yours truly would surely be enough to get an inside look into the twisted mind of a man she saw as hopelessly insane, and when the police came knocking, she would make sure she was the first one to open the door. 

You can bet your life on it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greetings! Thank you guys so much for the comments and kudos. I really do appreciate it. I sure do hope you'll keep 'em coming as I love, love love feedback. Until next time! ( By the way, was I the only one who laughed at Hannibal's reaction to Jack and Franklin in the first scene? Oh well. I certainly thought it was funny.) xD


	3. A Question of Taste

Following the onset of Will's unexpected heat, things suddenly took a turn for the worse.

Or, at least, that's how Jack Crawford interpreted it. Walking through the automatic doors of Thereaux Medical left him with a tremendous feeling of unease, almost as if he were entering Dante's seventh circle and Graham was one of the thorny trees being fed on by harpies. Will had to have committed some act of cruelty upon himself to wind up here, a deed as foreign to Jack as the origins of his friend's empathy, though he was beginning to see just how deep it embedded itself in the man's veins. Somewhere along the line, he felt like Will lost himself to a sin whose true nature was reflected in the cracked floors and streams of paint peeling from the walls of his own personal hell, and his punishment was to stew in it until his tormentors ripped the last bits of bleeding bark from his bruised and battered trunk. 

This interpretation of said hell was precisely the reason Jack normally steered clear of hospitals altogether. They reeked of wilted flowers and wasted potential. When Bella becomes confined to one of these prisons, he wouldn't be surprised if he killed himself. Anything would be better than having to stand in front of a sour looking woman with love handles and one heck of a snaggle tooth while some jackass in the waiting room bitched about rising stock prices. 

Cue the woman with love handles and a snaggle tooth. "Are you family?"

Agent Crawford's eyes followed the blue fabric of the medical receptionists' scrubs to shoot her a scathing look. "Will doesn't have any family. I'm his friend." 

"I see." Snaggletooth performed her computer duties with robotic movements that reminded Jack of himself when immersed in case files, the only distinction being her apparent lack of awareness for the world surrounding her. "Ok, his room number is 404. Take the doors to your right and on the left-hand side, there will be an elevator about thirty steps in. Go to the fourth floor. His room will be on the left."    

"Thank you." 

  The road to Will certainly wasn't paved with good intentions. If anything, it signified just how badly life wanted Omegas to suffer. The Omega maternity ward was where they placed the males when heats went haywire, which made sense because the process of enduring a heat was just as painful as being in the throes of childbirth. The screams of anguish coming from both sexes was almost more than Jack could bear. There were women grieving for their stillborns, women pushing out babies that must have weighed a ton, and Jack's worst nightmare-men whose heats became so cumbersome to their bodies that they died from them. Being an Omega was bad enough, but dealing with all that extra window dressing on top of that? Let's just say he was lucky to have been born an Alpha.  

If the journey to room 404 was bad, the destination wasn't much of a picnic either. As Jack entered the threshold, he noticed Will propped up by two pillows staring at the TV screen mounted on the wall with a blank expression on his face. He appeared motionless, lost to the world. His eyes blinked once, twice, three times, peering through the glass with heavy disinterest. His hospital gown was worn loosely around his thin body, pale skin a sharp contrast to the dark patterns stitched into the cloth. Irises the color of evergreen would expand every time the pupils retracted and the nose beneath took in the air at nearly the same rate, trembling and uneven. 

Taking it all in, it looked to Jack like Will's body was present but the mind was off to a place unreachable to anyone else's means but his own. He was back in that hypnotic state where imagination and the special circuitry that made his brain possible stepped away from the here and now and entered some plane of existence far away from where the rest of the world resided. Jack wanted to be where he was. He couldn't help thinking that if he could just invade that place, he'd be closer to understanding the anomaly that was Will Graham. But alas, that was not only impossible but something that the man in front of him wouldn't appreciate even if it were.   

Hey. A guy could still dream. 

"Will?"

Jack's presence wasn't felt, but he sure was heard. Will practically jumped ten feet, something he never did. Must be the heat. "Jack?"

He looked so confused . . . and tired. Confused and tired. "I thought I'd come by and see how you were doing. It's been a week since I found you, you know. I thought maybe we could talk."

Will stared, unresponsive, but very much in the room. His helplessness brought Jack back to that day at the crime scene when he'd had to run faster than ever before to keep up with the renegade Omega following his heat-induced haze. Finding him passed out on his lawn hemorrhaging to the chorus of frantic barking from inside his house was perhaps one of the scariest moments of Jack's entire career, but he managed to pull through long enough to carry Will back to his car and transport him to Thereaux. Upon their arrival, the doctors were able to stop the bleeding, stabilize the unconscious Omega, and lead both men to where they were now, watching each other like a couple of cowardly cowboys in a pretend game of desert duel, with guns drawn but no intention of actually firing the rounds.   

When it was clear Will wasn't going to answer, Jack came up to his bed and sat on the mattress, mindful of the IV in his arm. The silence in the room was deafening, but Jack stayed stock still while Will collected his thoughts, knowing that sooner or later, he'd have to fight his way back to himself, to the real Will behind the curtain. Seconds turned into minutes. Minutes turned into hours. By nightfall, both Jack and the hospital staff were tempted to diagnose Will with one of the worse cases of catatonia they'd ever seen. They brought him food. He didn't eat it. They gave him juice. He didn't drink it. Giving up, they pumped him full of pain medication and left him to wallow in his own head, not even bothering to warn Jack when the arrival of the clock hands on the number nine signified the end of visiting hours. 

Sighing, Jack decided it was probably time to pull up one of the hospital chairs in the room and fall asleep, not wanting to leave the still wide awake Omega but knowing that he had to get some much-needed shut-eye or die where he sat. He ignored the image in his head of that computer meme about the woman who became a skeleton waiting for her child to clean their room and plopped on the soft cushion of a nearby recliner, smirking slightly at the thought of waking up as one. Before long, he was in a blissful state of unconsciousness, lost to the world the same way Will was.     

* * *

Hannibal's face didn't betray even the slightest hint of distaste when he dragged his finger up the tablet showing the latest article from tattlecrime.com. Neither bark nor bite festered at the tips of his lifeless lips at the sight of such glorious perfection. Instead, he inwardly praised Miss Lounds, for the unflattering picture of Will on his knees mid-snarl was truly a thing of beauty. He allowed himself to bask in its ambiance, taking in the fiery Omega in all his splendor. He was such an erotic display of primitivity, a dangerous mongoose the good doctor wanted beneath his porch when the snake slithered by, coiled and ready to strike.    

He was surprised by the man's effect on him. In all the years spent wrapped up in the human condition, he never once felt anything other than eager curiosity toward the complexity of the Omega. Aware of their potential, his opinions were different from his Alpha peers, but he didn't think he'd ever see the day when he'd become attracted to one. The feeling was foreign, but not unwelcome. It was something he wanted to explore in greater detail, to pierce the veil of this new kinship with great force and involvement-and he did want to be involved. With Will Graham, he wanted nothing more than to see just how far he could poke and prod inside that beautiful brain until the boy snapped. He wanted to burrow, to become, to merge. He knew what Graham was capable of, and for the first time, he saw the opportunity for a pairing, a _true_ pairing. He finally found someone capable of understanding him and he was never going to let him go. His methods would hurt in the beginning, but Will would have to understand that everything the Alpha did was for his own good. He just wanted what was best for his new friend. 

This desire for the boy to embrace his true self was why refraining from going to that hospital with Crawford was so difficult. He knew his presence would only make matters worse, seeing as how he was the one who apparently caused the heat, yet the urge to be in Will's orbit was unreasonably strong as a result of it. Still, he was proud of the Omega's unwillingness to bend to mother nature. It was satisfying to know that this courtship between predator and prey was going to be a challenge to foster and maintain. He didn't want Will to roll over and give himself to the Alpha. After all, the matter of imprinting hasn't even taken place yet, though he had no doubt it eventually would. No, Hannibal wanted him to fight. He wanted to see that animal he knew was in there somewhere. It would make the surrender all the more pleasurable. He would shape him, change him, _own_ him, and together, the two would make one formidable pair. 

Watch out, little Omega. Here I come. 

* * *

 Will came back to himself somewhere between Jack's fiftieth snore and the nurse's first appearance of the day at 2 AM to readminister his medication. 

The first five minutes were spent staring at Jack in bewilderment, fingers twirling around his dark curls in a matter more befitting a two-year-old child than a full-grown man. The next ten were spent trying to figure out how Jack ended up there in the first place. He remembered something about someone coming to the hospital wanting to talk but the rest was all a blur, much like the last two days of inexplicable memory lapses that kept plaguing his psyche. Was he going crazy? Was there something medically wrong with him? And why didn't he feel like telling anyone?

All these questions swirled around him, eating him from the inside. As of right now, he could perceive the world around him with reason and clarity. But what would happen later on in the day? What about two days from now? Or four? Or five? Does all of this mean the job was once again driving him crazy? He didn't want to quit. Of that, he was certain. He was becoming absolutely enthralled with the Scourge case and he couldn't for the life of him understand why, just like he couldn't understand his obsession with Hobbs. He needed to find out who this killer was. There was something inside him that connected him to this case. From one Omega to another, he could feel a bond with this one far more powerful than any of the Alpha criminals he was sent by Jack to find. This one was an Omega. He was an Omega. This one grew up in an Alpha world. He grew up in an Alpha world. This one resented it. He . . . well, he had no idea how to feel, now did he? 

Jack began to stir and Will shut off his inner monologue, sliding it on the back burner. Cradling his head in his palm, he felt the remnants of a feverish sweat belonging to the previous night and ignored it, paying close attention to his shallow breathing. When Jack's eyes opened, Will angled his head to the side, hair falling over his face. "Hi, Jack."

"Will." Jack's voice was groggy and deep, sleep-filled bits of crust resting in the corners of his dark brown eyes. "You're back."

Will smiled. "Yeah."

"I thought I'd lost you."

"You can't lose me," he said. "I'm too stubborn to disappear for long." 

"Ain't that the truth." Jack replied. Suddenly, he grew serious. "Listen, I'm sorry about last week. I should have been more sympathetic to your heat. It's just the smell was so strong and I didn't know how to react. Then when Doctor Lecter-"

"Doctor Lecter?" Will's face crinkled in thought. Snippets of memories began hitting him all at once, bringing him back to the day he ended up in the hospital. Then he remembered everything. He remembered the interruption when he was trying to put his empathy disorder to good use. He remembered the other Alphas looking at him as if he didn't deserve to be there. But most of all, he remembered that heat, and with the memory of the heat came the memory of the one who caused it. "It was him."

"Who?"

 "Why was he there, Jack? Why on God's green earth did you bring him to the crime scene? Is he a medical doctor or a psychiatrist?" 

Jack flinched at the hostility in Will's voice. "Look, maybe we should talk about this at a better time." 

"This is a perfect time," Will said, body tense with anger. "He's a shrink, isn't he?"  

"Will-"

"What the fuck were you thinking? Did you honestly believe I'd accept some buffoon rolling around inside my head? And an Alpha of all people! In what universe did you think it was a great idea to have an Alpha checking to see if a working Omega is stable? Do you have any idea how that's going to look to people? They already think Omegas shouldn't even be in the police force. I had to fight through an endless stream of dirty looks just to get the chance to close my eyes and do what none of the other officers could do in their wildest dreams. I deserved better than that, goddammit!"

Will was shocked at the loud series of inflections coming from his throat, but he couldn't help the irritation spreading through him like wildfire. Jack knew how he felt about people dissecting his head into parts meant to be whole. The fact that he went against Will's wishes was an affront to their friendship and a huge betrayal of epic proportions. Lecter being an Alpha made everything worse, especially because he was the one that caused a heat that almost killed him. How could he ever trust Jack again? 

"I know I didn't just hear that!" Jack said, his own rage beginning to chip into his fragile veneer. "Let me tell you something, Will. You are on this case because I wanted you to be. I can take you off just as quickly. I've promised Alana a thousand times over that I would protect you, that I would make sure what happened last time wouldn't be a problem again and your ungrateful ass is making it very difficult for me. I am sick to death of apologizing and being blamed for everything that's bothering you. Who cares if he's an Alpha. His purpose is to help you, not try to take you away from your work."

"His _purpose_ isn't to help. It's to poke around in here," Will shouted, pounding his skull with his knuckles. "I don't give a good goddamn about your sob story, Jack. You should have consulted me before you made this decision. You should have gotten my consent! But no, instead you were sneaky, went around behind my back, and ambushed me in the middle of an investigation."

"I didn't ambush you. All I did was-"

"He was the one that caused my heat!"

Jack's mouth fell open, acknowledgment rendering him speechless. Will let out a defeated breath, shoulders slumping with the weight of his exhaustion. The fight in him was gone. "I can't do this. Maybe it's a good idea if you finished this on your own."

"No, no, no! Don't you say that. Not you, Will. I know you can do better, _be_ better. I never meant to ambush you. If that's what you believe I did then I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking of him as being an Alpha. I was thinking of him as being the key to your recovery. I thought if I could just do something right by you, just this once, I'd have it made. I could have you here without feeling guilty and waiting for you to board the next crazy train to batshit town. Because let's face it, Will, the next time it happens, you won't come back. And I don't want to lose you." 

Will processed Jack's words with a heavy heart and a look of pure sleepiness. He was so tired of constantly battling with himself for his own soul. All he seemed to be doing was hurting the people around him. Jack was making that perfectly clear, even if he didn't particularly realize it. "I appreciate your concern, Jack. I really do. But from now on, I'd appreciate it if you came to me with any concerns you might have for my welfare. What you did wasn't fair. It undermines me in front of everyone and with the heat this case is bringing to the town, the last thing I need is an Alpha undermining my rights to my own body. I won't have it, Jack. Not now. Not ever."

A hint of a smile brightened Jack's face, making him look younger than his 54 years. "Alright. I promise I'll come to you first from now on. Just do me a favor and speak to him, Will ya? I think he could really help you. This-" Jack motioned to the hospital bed-"thing won't happen again. It was a fluke. You're fine now. Look, I'll even come with you, if you want."

"I'm not a child. I can take care of myself."

Jack glanced around the room. "Clearly."

Brushing aside the sarcasm, Will reluctantly gave his approval. "Alright, I'll see him. But I'm telling you right now, I won't like him. Psychoanalysis is a question of taste and my palette rejects it thoroughly. I don't even find him that interesting." 

The Alpha folded his legs and stared at Will, the eye contact forcing him to look down from the discomfort. "You will."  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, lovelies! Here we are, another day, another chapter. Thank you so much for the comments and kudos. It really means a lot. This chapter is a couple days late but I'm glad I was able to get it in before the night was up. Hope you like it. :)


	4. Imprinting the Omega

Will Graham slammed Alana's computer lid shut with a heavy thud. "I can't believe this. Who the hell does she think she is anyway? Hasn't she tortured me enough?"

Alana leaned back in her chair and sent her friend a coy smile, crossed legs resting on her desk. "You should have known you'd end up with Freddie Lounds on your ass sooner or later. The woman loves to make you crazy."

"She already thinks I’m crazy. You know, I should have known this heat would eventually make the front page of her bullshit website, too. Her pathetic brand of journalism is part of what's wrong with this country. She's a parasite, feeding off of me like a fucking succubus." 

"A succubus, yes, but one that's got the greater part of the Alpha community on board with your resignation. They want blood, Will, and they're certainly not going to deny themselves the pleasure of an Alpha like Freddie downplaying the role of an Omega in an investigation of this caliber. Alphas are dying. An Omega is killing them and Jack has just put another Omega on the case. They see that as oppressive." 

"Oppressive my ass," Will growled. "Alphas wouldn't know oppression if it bit them on the ass." 

Alana watched her fellow Omega with deep affection and understanding. As an Omega herself, she'd known about the uprisings for quite some time, mostly because her Alpha coworkers couldn't quit bemoaning their opposition to it. Ever since Alphas dubbed the current generation's fight for equality the "age of the Omega," there had been a steady increase in discontent among the Alphas, some even going so far as to deny that Omegas still dealt with oppressive values. They insisted that Alphas were the ones facing systemic inequity, a view Alana couldn't understand how they shared, considering Alphas ruled the legislative, executive and judicial branches of the federal government, retained the bulk of the nation's wealth, and, perhaps most despairingly, was on the positive end of the oral and orgasm gaps between the two groups. They had all the power, yet they couldn't see it. Either that or they could and wanted to keep it that way. Alana wasn't interested in the details. She just wanted to be on the same footing as those condescending pricks so her people could have their fair share of the proverbial pie.   

Will wasn't like her when it came to politics. He was an Omegist at heart, but very rarely did he voice his opinions about the state of Omegas in their country. 

Today was the exception. 

"Is she a part of this? Does she resent me because of who I am? Is it because I harness the power of perspective in this fragile little Omega body when it should belong exclusively to the Alphas or does she harbor a more devious motive I'm not seeing?"

"I highly doubt your Omega status matters much to an Alpha like Freddie, Will. Her thirst is for the story. It's always been that way. She craves it and you've got it. You're unstable, you're an Omega in a traditionally Alpha-dominated field, you have an empathy disorder that affords you the ability to see into the minds of criminals, and just recently, you had a heat during a crime scene where a killer who shares your demographic is taking out Alphas one by one. Add to that the fact that she hates you and believes you're capable of murder and you've just fucked yourself." 

Will took his eyes off her and began pacing around the room like a caged animal annoyed by his imprisonment. "Then explain to me why in the hell she raised the question of whether or not I as an Omega should be involved in the investigation because I could have my heat at any moment. You do realize she just voiced the opinions of the very anti-Omegist Alphas who are in charge of legislation that directly impacts our bodies and our workforce, right?"

"Of course I do. But she's just hamming it up for the masses. She doesn't care if you're an Omega, but she knows other people do. If she wanted to assassinate your character, that would, unfortunately, be the best way to go about it."

"You mean the nastiest way."   

“Precisely.” Alana tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ears, ignoring the way Will watched her do it. “Let’s not talk about Freddie anymore, okay? I see how upset she makes you.” 

Will continued to stare at her. The sudden attention was not something she was used to, but she’d be lying to herself if she denied how it made her feel. “Um . . . well, uh,” she stuttered, fidgeting with her necklace. “You should probably get ready for your first session with Doctor Lecter.” 

Will scoffed, turning to face the window. “Yeah, right. Let’s stop discussing Freddie because she pisses me off, but only so we can talk about a man who has the same effect on me she does.” 

“Well, not _exactly_ the same effect,” Alana said, swallowing the lump in her throat. “She didn't force your body into a heat.” 

 _Damn_. She was letting her jealousy get the better of her. She may have loved Hannibal, but she also loved Will, and not in the "colleague appreciation" sort of way. When he was in the hospital, she'd spent a lot of time thinking about their friendship, wondering if the day he was to be discharged was too early to finally spill the beans about her love for him. She'd foolishly hoped that something in Will would examine his life choices following his brush with death and come to realize that the reason they were so close was that it was meant to be. But alas, he was as distant as he ever was, always two steps ahead of her when all she wanted to do was walk side by side.  

The day she'd imprinted upon another, she'd sworn she wouldn't allow her measly biology to determine her fate. Not when it came to her biggest crush and all-time best friend. Hating the Alpha responsible with the fire of a thousand suns definitely had a hand in that, but it wasn't the sole purpose for her reasoning. Her purpose was Will Graham. He was her everything. He was her sun, her moon, her walk on the beach and kiss in the dark. He represented all that was right in the world and he was all that she'd ever wanted. Why on earth did she have to fall into an unrequited love with another Omega? Why couldn't Omegas imprint on each other? Why did Alphas always have to steal everything she strived for? 

Sensing eyes on her, she snapped out of her reverie, picking imaginary lint off her long-sleeve shirt. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought that up."

"No," Will said, looking down at his feet. "It's, uh, it's not important. What's done is done. I just hope our meeting today isn't awkward as a result of it."

"I think you'll be fine."

"I'm not so sure about that." 

"Don't be so overdramatic. I've known him a long time. He used to teach me back at Hopkins and we've been friends ever since." Glancing at her watch, Alana got off her chair and went to retrieve Will's coat. "Stop worrying, Will. It gives you premature wrinkles. You should know better than anyone that I have amazing taste in friends. He's a wonderful man and we get along great. Really."

Will pursed his lips, regarding her with a mischevious glint in his pretty green eyes. "You get along great, huh? Not our kind of great, I hope."

 _Oh, no. Not today, Graham_. Alana inched her hands toward her cheeks so she could hide her blush and headed for the door with Will's coat in tow, cursing herself for the flirtatious tone in her soft voice.  "Nope. Definitely not."   

* * *

 The afternoon sun was hiding behind the dark curtains of Hannibal's office when Will arrived with a knock on the door. The Doctor had been utilizing his sketch paper to draw a portrait of the Saint-Severin in Paris, but the minute details of the church paled in comparison to the succulent peach standing before him now, a vision of brilliance he couldn't wait to exploit for his own purposes. "Hello, Will," he purred, responding approvingly to the displeased hesitance he got in return for his kindness. "Please, come in." 

Will entered as if he were a skittish animal in uncharted territory, attention trailing over every corner of the spacious room. Hannibal closed the door and resisted the urge to lock it behind him, visions of his brand new toy spread wide across his desk filling him with a lust so intense, his core burned to hold it in. The boy was simply too good to be true, flaunting his own aroma through the air like he was marking Hannibal's territory for himself. To say that it turned him on was far too understated an assertion to maintain. 

This voyage of uncharted territory filled his life with a brand new meaning. Never one to shy away from a challenge, he was more than happy to accommodate whatever romantical notions struck his inner Alpha's sensibilities. That he'd never experienced a primal sexuality of this magnitude, or even at all, didn't unnerve him in the slightest. If anything, it only deepened his connection to the brooding Omega, and he was curious to find out just how bloody this little story of theirs would ultimately end.   

Trailing behind his patient at an acceptable distance, he could see the tension in Will's shoulders, rigid to the point of breaking. He observed everything around him, much the same way Hannibal did, yet he wasn't jumping into the deep, dark waters with both feet. In Will's world, one foot had to always remain firmly within the realm of safety, especially when in the company of an untrustworthy Alpha. After fully surveying his surroundings, he turned to face Hannibal with a blankness completely devoid of emotion, lowering his body to the chair opposite the doctors' at a very slow pace. The electricity charging between them was affecting the still atmosphere, filling it with a cold sensuality contradicting everything you've ever heard about passion taking on the form of heat. 

The boy's face retained its abstruse configuration, sending Hannibal the message that he was the one on cue. Taking the bait, he said, "How are you today, Will?"

"Fine."

"I'm glad I finally have the chance to speak with you, though I must say, I'm surprised you're here. I was informed by Jack that you weren't a big fan of therapy."

Will's fingers scratched at the arms of the chair. For a minute, it didn't seem like he was going to speak. Lucky for Hannibal, he did. "I don't like being psychoanalyzed. Being inside my own head is bad enough. I don't need anyone else sharing the space with me." 

"Do you consider the space sacred?" Hannibal asked.

Will looked a little taken aback. "I, uh, I guess so. I guess I just feel as if they'll rearrange everything in there, which, of course, would be bad for me because it's already in disarray."

"Why do you say that?"

"How can I not? I have far too many imperfections present to ever make it okay. It's the empathy. It twists me up sometimes to the point where I can't tell who I am anymore. There are too many avenues and each one is reserved for one more murderer. I'm absolving too many at too rapid a rate and it's destroying me." Will smiled sadly. "That's why I build forts." 

Hannibal was interested in this boy. Going into detail about his issues when he didn't want to made him strong. Keeping himself reserved in spite of it made him even stronger. Such an enigma. It was time to dig in deeper. "I imagine what you see and learn touches everything else in your mind. Your values and decency are present, yet shocked at your associations. Appalled at your dreams." He watched as Will's smile began to fade. "No forts in the bone arena of your skull for things you love."  

He'd hit a nerve. He could tell by the look on the Omega's face. Silence became a motivating factor for Will to collect his thoughts and Hannibal used it to study every single inch of him, from the polished leather of his black boots to the micro tick in the left-hand corner of his perfect mouth. He wasn't the kind of person to be left to anyone's devices but his own. He was a loner, possibly for his entire life. There was a backstory that inched its way to the center of the memoir of Will's experiences, begging for divulgence, and it was up to Hannibal to grant its request. Eventually, he'd heed the call. But now? All he wanted to do was poke the bear-and he knew just how to go about it. "When did you get out of the hospital?"

Will's head shot straight up. The chill in his eyes was slowly replacing itself with a raging fire. _Good, Will. Good._ "Two days ago," he said, voice a raspy heap of warning. 

"I was there that morning. You went into heat. I could . . . smell you." 

Will bristled.  _Yes, my little Omega. Don't show me your heart. Show me your teeth._ "You're on dangerous ground, Doctor Lecter." 

"Why? Is it because there is some part of your that's embarrassed about your nature?"  _Bare them. Bare them all._ "Or is it because someone at that crime scene gave it to you?"

Will's lips parted. A soft growl was all he needed to know that this was as far as he could go at the moment without losing Will entirely. He'd made him weak-and he liked it. He liked it a little too much. His head was beginning to feel like it was scorched in flames, and just as quickly as it had come, it traveled to the rest of his body with the speed of a cheetah as it sprinted toward its meat. Will was looking like meat. Meat he wanted to devour. 

Being that he was a medical doctor, he knew all about this feeling. He'd never experienced it before, but it was there nonetheless. It was making him hot. It was making him hard. Most importantly, it was making him hungry. 

Will must have sensed the pheromones because his nostrils flared to the change. Forehead creasing, he inhaled deeply, trying to get a feel for the unfamiliar scent. The timing of the power shift would have been almost comedic if this astonishing turn of events hadn't just interfered with Hannibal's plans to penetrate Will's defenses. He'd been the owl in the old tootsie pop commercials, and he'd wanted to keep licking Will's rough exterior with his tongue long enough to reach the extra dose of sweetness in the center. It all started with finding out just how much he could get away with. He was supposed to be the one in control. Now, all he could do was hold his breath and do his best to keep his inner Alpha in check when all he really wanted was to put it to his Omega right where he sat. 

He wasn't perturbed by this new development. On the contrary, Will's reaction was what made it all worthwhile. Here he was, believing he could spark a reaction out of Will when as it turns out, it was Will that ended up sparking a reaction out of  _him._ His sweet boy knew it, too. As if by some form of revenge magic, Will's eyes drifted upwards to set on Hannibal's face with a subtle visage of pride as he began to smirk. "Something wrong, Doctor Lecter?"

He was being baited.  _My, what a naughty little boy you are._ "Would you like there to be?"

The Omega didn't bother to conceal his gratification at the trembling undertone present in Hannibal's husky voice. "Not yet, no," he murmured. 

The overpowering heat gave way to a tingle that left him light-headed. His ability to hide his desire was declining with every minute gone by, making him wonder just how much longer he could stand before the Alpha side of him took over and claimed good Will for itself. Fortunately for him, he didn't have to wait that long to find out, for Mr. Graham, perhaps sensing he was treading on thin ice, rose from his spot opposite Hannibal and came just a tad bit closer to the oversexed beast, stopping just short of reach as he said, "You forced my heat. I forced your claim. Even Stephen." 

Hannibal looked up from behind hooded lashes, wanting nothing more than to pump Will full of his seed. "Even Stephen." 

Doctor and patient exchanged flirtatious glances, and for one lingering minute, everything else ceased to exist. But like Cinderella at midnight, even something as powerful as an Alpha/Omega connection had to end sometime, and when Will broke the spell to head for the exit, Hannibal almost felt a tremendous sense of loss as he found himself knee deep in an empty void he knew only Will could fill. So much for their session. 

Will stopped just outside of the entryway to shoot Hannibal a knowing look. "Until next week." 

When he left, Hannibal shot up and immediately headed for the sink, splashing cold water on his feverish skin. He regarded the animalistic reflection in the mirror without a single scrap of bitterness. The burgeoning romance between him and Will had just begun, and already he was beginning to feel the powerful effect the boy had on his psyche. If Will was already strong enough to elicit this sort of reaction out of Hannibal without placing any effort into it, he couldn't help but wonder what his Omega was capable of when he actually _did._

"I imprinted on an Omega," Hannibal told his image in the glass. "Fascinating." 

Drying himself off with a hand towel, Hannibal left his office and stood outside the building in a pensive state. Looking up at the beacon of light among the stars, he allowed his mind to wander away from him Will and toward another man just as intriguing and twice as mysterious. 

 _The Alpha Scourge._  

If Will was a man who struggled with the need to keep an angel on his shoulder, the Scourge was the one carrying two devils on both sides. Omegas were a complex breed, but even Hannibal could tell that this killer wasn't who everyone thought he was. This one didn't house a sense of duty toward his fellow Omega, though he did express a sympathy for them that made his killings all the more satisfying. No, this one operated on pure revenge. He's been hurt before, and that hurt has fueled his desire to send a message out there to every Alpha on behalf of the one who broke his heart. He could smell it all at the crime scene just below the surface of Will's intoxicating heat, a remnant of a shattered soul this killer was trying desperately to piece back together again. 

Who is he? 

Where is he?

Will he succeed?

Hannibal wasn't sure, but as he walked the streets of Louisiana to his house two miles down the road, he couldn't help but look up at the Omega moon and smile, wondering if the Scourge was currently feeling the same deep connection to it that he was. 

* * *

 

_"Who are you? What do you want from me?"_

_A man with an upturned collar and piercing yellow eyes switched his attention from the moon above to the man tied to a tree in front of him. "You're going to help me realize my vision."_

_Patrick Westfall's eyes filled with pitiful tears. He never knew why they bothered. They were as useless to the Scourge as they were to God himself. "Please don't do this. I have children."_

_The Scourge smiled without humor, reaching into his pockets to retrieve a ball gag. "I care nothing for your children. Do what you're told and I'll let you live to see another day." Placing the gag in his victim's mouth, he quickly fastened the straps and stepped back to admire his handiwork. "I'm going to go now. Remember to keep quiet. If I decide to return and I find you screaming for help, I'll gut you right up against this tree and hang your innards on the branches like Christmas ornaments. Have I made myself clear?"_

_The man nodded, cheeks dampening with a fresh outpouring of salty liquid. He was going to make a great addition to the Scourge's collection._

_But first, he needed to send a message to Will Graham._  

 

  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, lovelies! Thank you guys so much for the comments and kudos. I have decided that I shall respond to each and every one of you from this point forward so you know just how much they mean to me. Yay! Anywho, the next chapter might not be up as quickly as I'd like but I'm going to try my very best. I have a chapter for another fic I need to work on and I'm going to be starting a new job on Monday but I'll update chapter five as soon as possible. Wouldn't want to leave Y'all hanging. Well, without further ado, here is the next installment. Hope you like it! :-)


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